Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(58)

Her eyes still closed, Brynn lifted her head, turned it, and curled her body away from him.

Alex’s shoulder was suddenly cold. And very empty.

He watched her, silently begging her to move back. She slept.

Jim’s eyes showed an odd mix of sympathy and annoyance. Alex wondered how much his own face revealed of his feelings for the woman. Judging by Jim’s reaction, just about everything.

Jim jerked his head toward the cargo door, opened it, and stepped out of the plane. Alex heard Jim’s knee pop as he walked. Sitting up, Alex’s spine creaked and his head ached like hell. He’d talk to Jim, then get some ibuprofen before checking out the cockpit.

He wasn’t aware of his hand instinctively checking his gun at his side.





Sheriff Patrick Collins stepped out of his four-wheel drive and surveyed the base camp in the morning light. He’d sped home, showered, changed, kissed his wife, hit Starbucks, and returned in under two hours. The number of media vehicles had increased again as word had spread that Darrin Besand was on the plane. CNN had arrived overnight. At first CNN had used the feed of a local network, but when the time frame of the missing plane lengthened and Besand’s name came to light, they’d sent in their own people.

Patrick had dealt with national media before. Twice, missing mountain climbers had caught the rapt attention of the nation. And then there were the two middle school girls who vanished as they walked to school. On different days. In the same neighborhood. Again the national media came calling and camped on his doorstep. The girls turned up buried in the backyard of their friend’s father’s house. The same man who’d given interviews to the media, sobbing about his daughter’s missing friends.

That case had nearly driven Patrick to retire.

RVs clogged the small clearing at the trailhead. The only local hotel was booked solid, so the media was making do with whatever sleeping arrangements they could find. He’d seen Regan Simmons arrive from the motel all perky and ready to sling some mud. She’d pissed him off yesterday by complaining on air about the lack of information from the sheriff’s department. Claimed they weren’t sharing with the media and were withholding information from the public and families.

Bullshit.

The families of both pilots and the missing marshal had been in constant contact with him. He’d assigned a deputy to do nothing else but see to their needs and make sure they could reach him whenever they needed to. None of the three families were willing to go on the air. With Patrick’s encouragement they’d asked the media to respect their privacy, and that had got Regan Simmons’s goat. She didn’t have a single tearful spouse to put on the air.

She’d tried to get Patrick to change their minds.

He’d threatened to arrest her if she didn’t stay out of his face.

He’d met with the three spouses and privately told them all he knew. Which wasn’t much. He’d passed on his spotty conversation with Ryan Sheridan about “three dead.” The looks on the women’s faces had sunk in despair, then shot up in hope, then down in despair again. When four men were on a plane, “three dead” weren’t good odds.

Patrick had fielded more questions about the damned helicopter too. The reporters had all talked among themselves, and no one confessed to sending up a copter.

Patrick had claimed no knowledge of the copter’s source.

Why did it feel like that denial was going to come back and kick him in the ass?

Deputy Tim Reid jogged over, his cell phone in hand. “Dispatch has been trying to reach you.”

Patrick pulled his own cell off his belt. The damned screen was blank. Dead battery. “Shit.” He never let his cell completely die. Especially on a mission like this. At least he had a charger in his truck. He held his hand out for Reid’s phone.

“Collins.”

“Morning, Sheriff. I trust you got some caffeine this morning?” The grandmotherly voice of his favorite dispatcher came across the line.

“I’d be doing a disservice to Madison County if I skipped it, Marilyn.”

“I’m well aware of that, sir.” She gently cleared her throat. “I’ve got Al Rice at the tower from the Springton airfield on the other line, sir. He says Tyrone Gentry never returned with his helicopter yesterday. He talked to Tyrone personally, sir. Tyrone had told him he and his brother would be back before dark. He’s already tried calling both the Gentry boys’ homes and no one is answering.”

Patrick closed his eyes and felt his heart land on his toes. Only Marilyn would call thirty-year-olds “boys.” “Has he checked any other airfields?”

“Yes, he did, sir. Within the last hour he called every place he could think of. He tried both boys’ cell phones too. He’s very worried, sir. Knows that family real well.”

Patrick did too. Was he going to add Liam and Tyrone Gentry’s mama to his list of grieving women? “Thank you, Marilyn. Tell Al I’ll take care of it from here.”

There was a pause.

“Do you want me to send someone over to Shirley Gentry’s home, sir?”

“No, not yet, Marilyn. I’m gonna get a hold of Liam’s commander. He’s officially their boy, not ours.”

Marilyn paused again. “You’re right, Sheriff. Anything else I can do?”

“Yeah, keep it quiet for now.”